


Tidal Wave I

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11347257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Rowanne wanted a birthday present just at the same time as I was challenged by Paula to write Mulder's meeting with Alex immediately after Deamland finished. This is the result.





	Tidal Wave I

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Tidal Wave...Dr. Ruthless

Rowanne wanted a birthday present just at the same time as I was challenged by Paula to write Mulder's meeting with Alex immediately after Deamland finished. This is the result.  
Spoilers for Terma and Dreamland  
Beta: Paula and Frankie Thank you ladies for time and inspiration.  
Disclaimer: These characters only sneak out to visit with me, and by rights I ought to send tehm back, but I'm weak, so weak.  
Rated NC-17 for explicit M/M sex. Not to be read by anyone who would be shocked by two sexy men getting it on.  
Feedback: Oh yeah! I'd pay for feedback. Want my first born? Take him, he's yours!   
Archive: Yeah!

* * *

Tidal Wave...Dr. Ruthless

The door to number 42 was the door to home. He was glad to see it, without quite knowing why that might be. He put his key into the lock and turned it, thinking how glad he would be to get under a shower and wash off some of the grime of the past day. It therefore came as a complete shock to him when he entered his apartment to find it... changed. The furniture was polished to a high shine - dammit, he could smell the beeswax! The door to his bedroom stood open, and that in itself was enough to set his alarm bells ringing. Through the open door he could see... a bed! For heaven's sake! He hadn't laid eyes on that bed for about 8 years. He had forgotten that it was there. He certainly hadn't had animal print bedcovers on it.

Fox Mulder backed slowly out of the apartment and checked the number on the door. It still read 42! Wasn't that the legendary answer to life, the universe and everything? He shook his head, went back inside, and closed the door.

There were candles on the table, burnt down to the nub. Place settings were laid out. Someone had been having a party. He stumbled into the bedroom. Where were all his boxes of stuff? Where were his copies of "Club International"? Where were the files he had put in here for safekeeping? Opening the closet, he found his clothes hung in tidy array. This was beginning to get scary. He crossed to the bed, and spotted the champagne bucket, with a nearly full bottle in it. The ice had turned to water, and the wine was flat. There were two glasses and it looked as if the party had become a seduction. It was totally beyond him. Sitting on the bed, he looked up.

"Jesus! Where the fuck did that come from?" He saw himself reflected in the mirror suspended overhead. What to do? It seemed somewhat silly to call the cops and make a complaint that someone had broken in and cleaned his apartment. He looked around. They hadn't only cleaned it. By the look of things, they had added a whole bunch of refinements.

"Hey! A lava lamp! Cool!" No, it would be better to wait and see what happened than to have the powers that be haul him away in a straitjacket. He was known for being eccentric, but even he could imagine what kind of reaction this story might produce.

The phone rang. He picked it up and carried it through to the bedroom. 

"Mulder." He threw himself down on the bed as he spoke, fascinated by the sight of himself displayed in the mirror overhead.

"Mulder, it's me. You know we have that meeting first thing Monday morning with Kersh. Do you want to pick me up and we'll go over our story on the way in?" Mulder was abstracted, watching himself in the mirror. He mentally pictured a companion, long legs, tight buns, deep chest and strong arm.... He shook himself. 

"Sorry Scully. I was just thinking. You know, something really weird has happened here while we were away. Sure, I'll pick you up. We can grab breakfast on the way and decide what we're going to tell him." "Mulder, what do you mean, weird? Do you want me to come over?" Scully sounded just a little worried. Mulder smiled and stretched. "No, that's OK! It's not important weird, just a little strange is all. It will keep 'til later. I'm going to take a shower now and catch up on my paperwork. I'll see you at 6:30 Monday morning Scully." Disconnecting, without any further pleasantries, Mulder wriggled a little on the waterbed and bounced up and down, testing out the feel of it.

"I don't know. I still prefer the couch, but this does have its points." He stretched luxuriously and arching backwards, he pulled his T-shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor in the corner. Studying his reflection, he took in the flat stomach, the well-muscled chest with its slight dusting of crisp hair, fanning out and softening to silky down as it approached his navel. He began to unbutton his jeans, watching as he did so. His eyes fixed on the mirror, he did not hear the slight snick as the door to his apartment was softly opened and then closed once more. He didn't hear the quiet footsteps as someone moved with catlike feet to the door of his bedroom. What he did hear, the first indication that he was not alone, was the quiet expletive that his visitor let loose as he spotted Mulder writhing on his bed.

"Bojemoi!" At the sound of the husky voice Mulder sat up sharply, his jeans at knee height, his body gleaming with sweat and his erect penis bobbing. Looking around he made out the dark shape of a man lurking in the shadow of the door. 

"What? Oh for fuck's sake Krycek, anyone would think this was a public highway or something. Don't you have anything better to do than go around leaping out at people, invading their privacy?" Mulder, painfully aware of his nudity, was at a huge disadvantage, spread-eagled on a rippling bed, his pants at half mast, and the evidence of his incredibly aroused state on display before a man who, to put it mildly, made him feel insecure. The last time he had seen this man, he had placed a kiss on his cheek and tossed him his gun prior to waltzing out of his life once more, apparently certain that Mulder would not shoot him. This time Mulder had left his gun on the coffee table in the living room, and Krycek was between him and the security of his weapon. He cast around madly for anything that would help him re-establish a balance in his current predicament. Meanwhile, Krycek, who had been lounging negligently against the doorframe was smugly aware of the thoughts that must be racing through Mulder's mind. He clicked his tongue and gestured with his head, pointing a finger at Mulder to indicate that the other man was right.

"Well you know, sometimes I like to come this way. It certainly avoids the traffic jams. You don't seem to have too much in the way of crowds in here." He sauntered into the room as he spoke. "Hey Mulder! I never realised you used your bed!"

Mulder watched Krycek nervously as he approached. The man prowled like a wild animal. His erection had subsided and was now curled, cringing within the curls of his pubic hair. Mulder wished there were somewhere that he could curl up too, and remain unnoticed. Krycek stopped as he reached the corner of the bed, and began to take inventory of the room. His eyes came to rest on the mirrored ceiling and he grinned a particularly nasty grin.

"You know what Mulder? You're repressed. Sexually repressed!" He gestured broadly at the splendour surrounding him.

"I'm what?" Mulder was having a little trouble concentrating. Krycek was within a foot of him, discovering all his secrets, secrets he didn't know he had. If for instance he opened a closet door and a bunch of inflatable ladies fell out onto the floor he was never going to be able to hold his head up again. He could smell Krycek, and his warm, male scent was distracting. His cock twitched again and Mulder tried to think clean thoughts. It was not in his nature.

"Repressed. I'll spell it for you: P E R V E R..." Mulder had taken enough. He attempted to push himself up and swing a punch at his tormentor, but hobbled by the jeans that were still fast around his knees, all he succeeded in doing was stumbling and them overbalancing and falling at Krycek's feet, tush in the air. Krycek, who had avoided the haymaker with ease and nonchalance, flashed him another unpleasant grin. "For me? You shouldn't have, Mulder!"

Mulder yelped as Krycek bent to smack his butt, and tried to roll over so he could dislodge the jeans that were impeding his movement so badly. At this point he had decided that dignity was no longer worth preserving and he would cut his losses and try to see if he could just bring about an end to the situation. Krycek put out one booted foot, and stepped on the small of Mulder's back, stopping his immediate attempts at recovery, and making him look a little like a frog with a duck after it.

"Krycek!" Mulder roared. "It was you! You're the one who's responsible for all this! Why can't you stay out of my life?" Krycek, listening to Mulder was a little confused. He wasn't sure what it was he was being accused of, but he did know that it had upset Mulder. This being the case, he felt sure he could capitalise on the misunderstanding and if he could get a rise out of Mulder, so much the better. He took his foot off Mulder's back, and poked the prone agent with the toe of his boot, encouraging him to roll over.

"What makes you think it was me?" Krycek's grin grew wider, and more feral. He had his hand resting negligently against his gun, and though he appeared relaxed, Mulder knew from experience that he was poised to strike in the same reflexive way that a cobra would. He remained still, not wanting to invite any physical repercussions.

"I go out on a case, and when I come back someone has tarted up my apartment to look like the set from the "Happy Hooker". I'm home for approximately a half-hour and you show up. It doesn't take a genius, Krycek! My only problem with all this is that I don't understand why? Why do you keep on coming back to bug me? You've been in here pretending this is some sleazy hotel! You've been throwing parties and seducing people on my bed. Don't you have your own bed? What is wrong with you?" Mulder's voice was petulant and he began gathering himself together to sit up. Krycek stepped backwards, still grinning, and allowed him to pick himself up from the floor. Mulder clambered to his feet, and once standing, he attempted to pull up his jeans. The smile left Krycek's face for the first time and suddenly his gun was in his hand, pointing at Mulder's groin.

"Wrong way Agent Mulder. They go down, not up. Come on, snap to it!" He gestured with the gun, and took another step backwards away from Mulder, as the other man raised horror stricken eyes to his face.

"What do you mean?" Mulder was panicky. A man who had spent the past four years on and off causing him pain and woe was forcing him to strip.

"I'd have thought it was pretty obvious what I mean, Mulder! Take them off. Take everything off. I want to see you naked." Krycek gestured once more with his gun, and Mulder, blushing beet red, stooped to remove the remaining vestiges of his clothing. Once naked, he stood in front of Krycek, uncertain as to where this was going. Krycek pursed his lips and studied Mulder from head to toe, his eyes sparkling with malice. After a minute, he gestured for Mulder to turn around, and as he did so, Krycek slowly walked around the bed, drawing closer than Mulder felt comfortable with. He felt Krycek's breath on the nape of his neck as he stood, trembling, and then a cold sensation as Krycek softly drew his gun down Mulder's back, from the nape to the crack of his ass. His cock, which had been worrying about things, suddenly stood to attention. It didn't matter how insecure Mulder was feeling, the dick was triumphant and raring to go. Krycek laughed softly.

"Lay down Mulder. Take the load off! Pretend I'm not here. You were doing fine before you knew I was here, carry on!" He tucked his gun back into its holster, and grabbed a chair from the corner of the room, hooking it towards him with one foot before reversing it and sitting facing him, his legs splayed and his arm resting along the chair back.

Mulder was looking more and more like a bunny caught in headlights. He stood against the waterbed, his hands wavering as he attempted to conceal his glorious erection from an extremely appreciative Krycek. Krycek's face had softened, and he was drinking in Mulder's vulnerability as he sat. He was certainly worth looking at. His long legs were strong, the thighs muscular and the calves shapely from years of running. His ass was tight and there was no spare flesh on his hips or waist. His waist flared upwards into the strong chest he had admired earlier, his musculature was not bulky, but he was lean, obviously strong, and his shoulders were powerful, slabs of muscle rippling his back and bulging out over his shoulders. He had a strong throat and a sensual, full lipped mouth. Eloquent hazel eyes reflected every thought that crossed his mind and the long, strong nose also betrayed sensuality. He had thick, chestnut hair that flopped over his forehead. Krycek took it all in and smiled again. 

"Very nice, Mulder. Very nice indeed! Continue!" He pointed to the bed, and Mulder rather shakily sat down.

"What do you want me to do?" His voice was quiet, and he seemed somehow scared.

"I want you to go on the way you were before I interrupted you. I want to watch you play with yourself. Come on Mulder, put that mirror to good use!" Mulder's eyes had opened wide at this speech, and his cock seemed to stand up even taller. It was as if he had received an electric shock.

"I... I can't." Mulder gasped. He gazed imploringly at Krycek, who slowly stood up and began to slide out of his jacket.

His leather jacket dropped to the ground, revealing the gun holster he wore beneath it. He began fiddling with the buckle, but when Mulder raised himself onto one elbow, he raised his gun and his voice was suddenly icy cold.

"Put your hand on your cock." Mulder hesitated. Krycek grabbed the gun once more and very ostentatiously removed the safety catch. "Do it, now!" Mulder tentatively put his hand down and took hold of his penis. It was twitching and as he squeezed it, a droplet oozed from the tiny slit on top of the head. Mulder caught it up with his thumb and rubbed it around the head, closing his eyes as he did. He slowly began to work himself, his teeth biting his lower lip, his hand pumping up and down and his hips jerking and thrusting as he established a rhythm. Krycek, who had by this time removed his holster, was now stretching to pull off the white T-shirt he wore. Tossing it behind him, he casually unbuttoned his jeans, and put one foot on the chair to unlace his boots. Mulder by this time had forgotten about Krycek, and was beginning to really get into his activity, pulling hard on his dick and groaning as he did so. Krycek watched him for a moment more, and then, naked himself now, he crawled onto the bed alongside Mulder.

Mulder felt his arrival next to him on the bed and yelped. Looking up at the mirror on the ceiling, he could see the clean lines of Krycek's body. Stronger and stockier than Mulder, Krycek was beautifully made. His flaw, if he had one was the fact that his left forearm was missing, and the stump was left with hideous scarring where it had been severed. Mulder had known intellectually that Krycek had lost his arm in Russia, but this was the first time he had been allowed to see the true ravages that had occurred. The breath caught in his throat as he looked at Alex. He was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Huge green eyes looked back at him from within their fringe of thick dark lashes. His finely moulded lips were curved in his habitually malicious smile and his small, frivolous nose quivered just a little as he watched Mulder.

"Krycek, what the hell are you doing?" Mulder had released his cock and turned to his nemesis, who was lying beside him. "It was you that put all this stuff in my apartment wasn't it? Whatever did you do it for?"

"I decided that I felt lucky tonight Mulder. I'm tired of just lusting after you like some kind of idiot. Tonight, one way or another I'm going to have you screaming my name." His face still maintained that irritating smile and Mulder was torn between smashing the smile off his face, and grabbing his ears and kissing him. Krycek must have noticed his change in facial expression, because his pupils dilated, his breath turned ragged, and he pounced on Mulder, bearing him back into the waterbed and causing a tidal wave that set them both rocking, making them tcling together so they wouldn't smack into each other. Alex was laughing wildly and Mulder felt his lips start to twitch as he hung grimly onto him.

"Krycek, you're completely demented! I don't understand what you've got in mind here, but I wish to goodness you'd just go away and leave me to live out my life of quiet desperation." Mulder was only partly joking as he looked at the man who was lying partly on top of him. Krycek, who seemed to be listening to him, smiled, this time a much more gentle smile, and brought his mouth down onto Mulder's in a kiss that sent electric shocks from his mouth straight down to his cock. Krycek had covered him by this time, and had a leg pushed in between Mulder's thighs as he writhed and seethed against his prick. 

Mulder was drowning in sensation. He was being kissed mercilessly by Krycek, whose sweet mouth was moist over his, tongue seeking out every last sensation as it pressed and licked and stroked. He wanted to hold onto that kiss forever. He could feel the roughness of Alex's chin, the hardness of his body pressed against him, silken skin sliding along his chest, and above all, his cock, silky smooth skin covering iron hardness, pressing against him, slippery head covered in the dew that leaked from the slit.

He didn't think any more, he mindlessly burrowed into the sensations he was experiencing. Krycek was nibbling around his lips, licking and pulling on his ears and sucking his neck hard enough that Mulder knew he would have hickeys strung like a necklace around his throat by morning. For a brief moment he wondered what the hell he was doing here with his arch-enemy who even now was putting his hand down between them to grasp his prick, making him gulp air in great sobbing breaths as he found himself virtually paralysed with need.

Alex was still kissing him, his warm mouth tender and juicy, lips wandering across flesh that tingled in its wake as if he were submerged in bubbles. He gave himself wholeheartedly to the kisses, throwing his arms around Krycek, kissing him back. When the other man dropped his head and began to move down his body, suckling his nipples, licking and biting at his inner arms, he put his hand on Krycek's head, stroking his hair, gently fondling his ear, his neck, and his lips.

Krycek was working his way down across Mulder's belly. Mulder gazed down at the intent expression of the other man. He was feeling very strange indeed. He had never really considered having sexual relations with another man, and yet right at this moment it seemed as though it was the most perfect action he could contemplate.

Krycek finally reached his groin and was now kissing around his genitals, tickling and teasing as he peeped up at Mulder through long lashes. Mulder felt a lump in his throat as he watched him. It was only going to be a second if Krycek did what he thought he was going to do. He gasped as he felt those lips close around the head of his penis. Then as Krycek swirled his tongue around the top, before plunging his mouth down and engulfing him in warm delicious wet heat, he felt his orgasm begin bubbling up and tried to pull Krycek up off him. Krycek was unmovable. Mulder cried out in panic. 

"Alex, please, no, I can't stand it any more, I'm coming!" Alex made a pleased sound in his throat, and renewed the sucking pressure he had been applying. Mulder gave a groan and grabbed Krycek's head with both hands, thrusting into his mouth sharply, once, twice, three times. With his muscles in spasm, and his back bowed, he felt the whole of his being pour out through the end of his cock as the storm of intense pleasure sent him spinning out of control.

"Oh God! What was that? I think you're trying to kill me!" Krycek, who was lapping now at Mulder's slowly deflating penis, crawled back up the bed and kissed Mulder once more, giving his lover a taste of himself, fresh from his own loins. Pulling back for a moment. Krycek smiled an endearing, little-boy smile the like of which Mulder had never seen before..

"See, I told you I felt lucky! You called me Alex. That means I can call you Fox!" Alex was still running his hand over Mulder's body as he spoke. Mulder, drained, was trying to process what had just happened, but without much success. 

"I hate to be called Fox." Was all he could think of to say in reply.

"If you think I'm going to address you as Mulder when I've got your dick in my mouth, you have to be kidding. Fox it is, unless you want me to call you snuggly-pooh?" Mulder's face said it all. 

"OK Fox!"

Mulder was now thinking a little more clearly. "Alex, You didn't..." He gestured to Alex's still hard prick.

"No, I didn't, but it's OK. I wanted you. I don't need to.. ." His little self deprecating speech was cut off as Mulder turned the tables on him, rolling him onto his back and kissing him soundly. 

"Alex, I don't...I mean I never...Oh, hell!" Alex smiled. 

"It's OK Fox, just hold me, here, give me your hand.... I know you can do this. I watched you a few minutes ago." Alex held Fox's hand under his, and prompted him to pump the straining flesh as the other man kissed along his jaw line.

"Is this all? I want you to feel good, really good." Alex grinned lazily at him, then gasped as Mulder squeezed him.

"Well, you can do what I did to you, or you can let me fuck you. It's maybe a little too soon for that. I don't think you've had a whole lot of experience yet have you?" Mulder reflected that this was no more than the truth. He kissed Krycek once more, then making up his mind, he took hold of Alex's face and gazed into his green eyes, noting the hectic flush on his cheeks.

"How do we do it? Do you want me to turn over?" Alex's eyes opened wide, the green lost as his pupils dilated with desire. 

"Stay there Fox." He wriggled to the edge of the bed and retrieved a tube of lube from his jacket. Squeezing the jell onto his hand, he began to caress Mulder, stroking him between his legs, reaching down to feel his balls in their now slack pouch, then reaching around to make little circular movements around his asshole. He pressed harder with each circle, dipping his finger into the warm tunnel he could feel. Mulder felt very strange. At first it was painful, though not terribly so, but as Alex continued to dart his fingers deeper and deeper, Mulder became aware that it didn't hurt at all, in fact, fuck! What was that? He found that he was stiff and erect once again as Alex found a spot deep inside him that seemed to resonate throughout his entire body.

"Oh God Alex, whatever it is that you're doing there, please don't stop." Alex had in fact withdrawn his fingers, and Mulder whimpered, pushing back with his hips in an effort to recapture that magical massage.

Alex had kneeled up and was slicking his own erection with the lube. "OK, Fox, just put your knees up, and relax, it will feel great in just a minute more." Mulder moved quickly to do what Alex was indicating and whimpered again as he felt Alex rubbing his cock against his ass. Gradually the head slipped inside him, and he found that he could relax a little. He groaned as Alex finally pushed his penis all the way into him, and then again when he began to move, encouraging those wonderful sensations to blitzkrieg his ass, and from there to spread like a summer fire throughout his body. Alex was losing it fast. His breath came in short staccato bursts, and his eyes were glazed as he began to pump mindlessly into Mulder. Mulder couldn't believe how beautiful he was. He felt his heart flutter, and as Alex cried out some strange foreign words, he felt his balls contract as his sperm bubbled up to spurt over his chest. Alex was locked in a bone cracking orgasm, his dick pumping into Mulder as he came, and came and came. Finally he collapsed bonelessly onto Fox's chest, and they both slept for a few minutes.

Mulder was the first to open his eyes, and he looked tenderly down at the man sleeping on his chest, gently tracing an ear with his finger.

"Alex, why did you do it? Why did you bring all this stuff to my place here?" Alex opened one eye dreamily.

"I didn't. I really didn't!"

"Yeah! Right!....So when do we get to try out the champagne and the candles?"

********************* 

Sue aka Dr. Ruthless  
<> ICQ#14783367  
http://www.squidge.org/~drruthless/  
Duchovnik/NLEB/Fruperson/Carreyholic/QOTFU  
http://www.squidge.org/terma/index2.htm


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